


The Gotham Gangster

by TheOtherGenesis



Category: Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2018-12-11 10:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11713020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherGenesis/pseuds/TheOtherGenesis
Summary: In his first major solo case, Red Robin uncovers a plot by a new player, which will forever change the underground world of Gotham





	1. Chapter 1

In the city of Gotham, it is never a good thing when the streets are quiet. It is a sign of bad things to come. Silence before the storm, if you will. And the longer the silence prevails, the bigger the storm will be.

When this storm finally arrives at Gotham, it is usually with a force, that the Gotham City Police Department is rendered useless against. Partly due to a sizable portion of the police force being bribed, blackmailed or threatened, to look the other way, and the remaining police force having their hands politically tied, because of the corruption going on at a place above their pay-grade.

With conditions such as these, it was only a matter of time, before someone outside law enforcement, took it upon themselves to help the helpless, when those who had sworn to protect and serve, were unable or unwilling to protect and serve. In Gotham City, most of these crime fighters were brought up under the guiding hands of Batman, the caped crusader, who went by Bruce Wayne, when he was not wearing his cowl.

Those who received Batman's tutelage were usually approached by him and given the offer. Either because they had the potential to do good or a level of anger, that could do a lot of harm, if not tethered in time.

An exception to Batman's usual recruitment method is Tim Drake, also known as Red Robin, previously just Robin.

It has only been a few months, since Tim passed the mantle of Robin onto the next boy wonder. This time it was Bruce's biological son, Damian. As with the two that came before Tim, being Robin was not the goal; it was the initial steps in the process of becoming a crime-fighter. At some point, they were meant to create a name for themselves.

This wasn't something Bruce started on his own. He and the first Robin, Dick Grayson, had a minor feud that made both realize that Dick had to go his own way. Grayson was less adverse to danger, than Bruce would've liked. A rule that permitted one to become Robin, was that you follow Batman's orders. As such it was obvious that they would clash at times.

The second Robin, Jason Todd, died in the line of duty, after Batman attempted to give a longer leash which resulted in Robin going after Joker, Batman's arch-nemesis, on his own and ended up biting off more than he could chew. Batman realized all too late what was happening and didn't make it in time. Unfortunately, he just made it in time to witness a bullet going through Jason's head. Joker spent months in the Arkham Asylum ICU with several broken bones, his front teeth missing, and a punctured lung, which to this day is the closest Bruce came to breaking his no-kill rule.

Tim had his first encounter with Batman, when Grayson was still Robin. He was walking home from school late at night, having stayed after class to finish an assignment with his study group.

Batman and Robin came soaring through the streets in the Batmobile, in pursuit of an old clunker. The clunker was driven by a thug named Robert Fripp, who was a known member of Two-Face's gang. Two-Face, sometimes known as Harvey Dent, was as much a villain as Batman was a hero. He would do anything to make money. Rob a bank, assassinate just about anyone, or smuggle contraband. If he could make money from it, he would do it.

The calm before Two-Face's storm wasn't all that calm, as he would need funds to carry out his mission, and instead of using money from previous jobs, he would send out his gang to steal anything worth a dime. If they got caught, Two-Face would simply send new guys. In the corrupt city of Gotham, you could always find lost souls out to make a buck. Fripp was one such soul, who had been lured in by the promise of a share in Two-Face's next big thing. Fripp had tried to rob a jewelry store, but tripped the alarm. Normally, this would only contact the police, who sent a single unit, but due to Fripp's gang-affiliation, he had also attracted Batman.

Outrunning the Batmobile is no easy task, and one that proved too much for Fripp. After catching up to Fripp, the Batmobile gave his car a nudge from the left, that sent Fripp spinning and ended up crashing into an ice cream store.

The Batmobile pulled up right behind the crashed clunker, to prevent a sudden attempt of escaping. The entire roof and front windshield slid forwards on the Batmobile, with Batman jumping out of his seat, having gained momentum by holding onto the roof's edge.

Tim was just a few yards from the scene and did his best to conceal himself behind a telephone box at the nearest corner.

Fripp tried to make a run for it, but his attempt was quickly halted, as Batman kicked the front door shut, after Fripp opened it, with Fripp's left hand getting caught between the door and car-pillar. Batman looked back at the Batmobile

"Robin, check the trunk. Afterwards, search the duffel bag I see on the rear seats."

"You got it, Batman"

In a similar fashion to Batman, Robin jumped out of the Batmobile, though Tim found it odd somebody could do that. Batman was able to, since he gained momentum from the top sliding forth. But going from a seated position, to leaping upwards and sideways simply by one hand on the side of the car would require a good amount of control and at least some dabbling with acrobatics.

As Robin got close to the clunker's trunk, the contrast between their outfits stood out.

Batman in a dark gray suit with some darker gray panels on the chest for further protection with a black bat insignia in the center, an almost black, but with a blue hue, cape and cowl.

Robin, on the other hand, was notably more colorful. A red torso-piece, with a yellow R on a black background. Short green sleeves with matching green gloves and similarly green briefs.

Robin's outfit further reinforced Tim's thought of Robin being of the acrobatic type. Whereas Batman's outfit was built to protect him from sustaining injuries from gunshots, knife-attacks, and blunt force, Robin's was seemingly more focused on avoiding damage altogether. His joints were visible, meaning he wouldn't have to worry about limited movement.

While very few had had the chance of observing Batman in combat, stories had put him up against dozens of thugs and still come out as the victor with nobody landing a hit on him, so it was clear that he had fighting experience. And for him to approve of Robin's outfit, that didn't offer much protection, Tim could only conclude that whoever was behind the mask, was an incredible acrobatic. But, Robin didn't look that old, which meant that he would have to have grown up in acrobatic circles. Like a circus or something.

Other than his fighting capability, stories circulated of Batman being a tough interrogator. His persona was all about instilling fear into the criminals, but he wasn't shy of resorting to physical violence, to get the criminals to talk. By the looks of it, Tim was about to witness whether this was true, as Batman shifted his attention from Robin to Fripp, who was still whimpering about his broken fingers. However, rather than just opening the door, Batman ripped it off of its hinges, hurled it across the street and bent a lamppost. This brief view of Batman's strength seemed more than enough to put Fripp into a state that would make him spill the beans.

Batman grabbed Fripp's jacket and pulled him out of the car and slammed him against the clunker with enough force to make the clunker wobble for a bit. Fripp wasn't wearing a seatbelt, but given the fate of the front door, it likely wouldn't have made a difference in his safety.

"Hey Batman, ease up. I'm trying to count the cash in the duffel"

Batman didn't respond directly, but kept his focus on Fripp

"So, care to explain what you're going to do with that cash?"

"Batman, there's jewelery in here too. At least fifty grand"

"Where were you going with this?"

"I-I-I-It-It was for-I was"

"TALK! While you still have one good hand"

"TWO-FACE! Ok, I-I-I was delivering it for Two-Face"

"What's he planning?"

"I don't know, he didn't say"

Batman grabbed Fripp's right hand and pinched it against the car's roofline

"My patience is wearing thin"

"I swear! He didn't say. Said I didn't need to know. Said the less I knew before the gig, the better, in case I ran into you"

"Where's the drop-off for that bag?"

"Just south of here. On the corner of Arkham Street and Andrews Boulevard. But I don't know if Two-Face will be there."

"Robin, return to your seat, we're moving out"

Without word, Robin took the duffel bag and headed towards the Batmobile. But rather than reversing his way of entrance, Robin jumped to the Batmobile's bonnet, threw the bag into the driver's seat, looked ahead and did a backwards somersault which landed him right in his seat.

A move that Tim found impressive as it could have gone wrong in numerous ways. He had drafted a profile for Robin in his head, while observing the dynamic duo in action, and while he didn't have any names, he figured it couldn't be a long list of people to fit the criteria he had witnessed that evening.

While Robin was showing off, Batman had sucker punched Fripp and went to collect the missing car door. Upon returning to Fripp, who still was on the ground gasping for air, Batman pulled out a set of handcuffs and chained Fripp to the door.

Moments before Batman got into the Batmobile, he locked eyes with Tim. Batman knew Tim was there, the whole time. Tim felt a shiver down his spine and got up, just as Batman jumped in his car.

"Penny-1, get in conta-" was the last thing Tim heard before the roof shut in and the Batmobile took off, leaving a big cloud of smoke behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Red Robin's flashback was abruptly cut short by a sharp burst of cold wind. He had heard whispers of a sit-down between the two biggest crime families in Gotham, Falcone and Bertinelli, and was headed out to trail one of the lieutenants for Falcone, in order to find the meeting place. Summer was long gone and with winter approaching, he thanked himself for going with a cowl, rather than the visor that he used to wear as Robin. Only a section around the mouth was exposed, as it eased breathing and made it more comfortable to wear. His cowl was in many ways like Batman's, with a notable difference being the ears.

 

To go with his bat-symbolism, Batman had added pointy ears to his cowl, which added extra space to store a mini-computer that would power the heads-up display in the glass in front of his eyes. Red Robin had yet to figure out how to set up a similar system in his cowl, without breaking the robin motif, with the current design revolving storing it around the ears.

 

However, what was placed around the ears was only the output of the computer, rather than the computer itself, which was placed in a circular compartment around his left wrist. If it wasn't being actively used, the computer would tap into the Gotham City Police Department's radio feed and pass it to his ear-piece, while also tracking Red Robin's telemetry that was passed onto a heads-up display in front of his left eye to show his current whereabouts.

 

The rest of his outfit was as experimental as the placement of the computer. Currently, he was testing having additional gadget compartments on his chest in the form of two belts going from a point on the back-end of his waist-belt and onto his chest, where it would interlock with a circular disc that displayed his Red Robin insignia in gold-yellow. This disc was woven into his cape that covered his shoulders and collarbone, with the cowl sewn onto the cape as well. The chest-belt were placed on top of a red tunic made of composite body armor with additional ceramic plates placed on the torso area. The same composite body armor is used in his black leggings which also holstered two escrima sticks that would be assembled to a bo staff.

 

Tim had never been of the fighting type, which became apparent during his early training days. Without the acrobatic movements of the first Robin and the anger of the second Robin, he found it difficult to best even the average fighter, despite the training from Batman.

 

During one of their first patrol nights, Batman and Robin came across a group of thugs, that housed an informant of interest. When conflict broke out, one of the thugs grabbed a broken water pipe, but even a direct hit didn't faze Batman. A quick jab at the guy's forearm, while holding onto and rotating the pipe, made the pipe switch hands within seconds. Rather than dropping it on the ground, Batman threw the pipe to Robin, who quickly managed to use his increased range effectively. From that day, he trained in the usage of a staff and found it much easier during his and Batman's sparring sessions. After becoming Red Robin, he added a three-point interlocking mechanism in the middle, to allow splitting the staff in two. Partly due to the extra versatility in combat, but also because the staff was downright impossible to transport, now that he got around on foot or motorbike, rather than as a Batmobile passenger.

 

Tonight, the motorbike was parked at the Red Robin safe-house, which also acted as Tim's personal apartment, and the evening's tailing was being done by foot on the rooftops. To his benefit, the clouds completely covered the sky, which made it difficult for any pedestrians to see if somebody was on the roofs. Convenient as criminals of all ranks had learned they should look to the roofs rather than the streets for anyone that could cause them trouble. Policemen could be bought to look the other way or downright help, but if a cowled hero showed on the roof, there wasn't an amount of money in the world that could save them.

 

After searching and finally locating the Falcone lieutenant, Alfredo Guillermo, Red Robin made the final pat-down to ensure he'd brought the necessary equipment for a scouting mission. While he'd already checked before leaving his apartment, it wouldn't hurt to check a second time.

 

Alfredo was currently sitting in a Falcone-owned restaurant and having dinner with his family, a wife and two sons. Nobody seemed happy to be present at the dinner table. The eldest son was sitting with his back to Red Robin, so his facial expression was obscured, but he was leaning heavily to the left, while resting his head on a clenched fist. The youngest son was frowning to the best of his ability, and scooted the food on his plate around, rather than eating it. Despite being young he seemed old enough to understand what was going on. The wife sitting opposite Alfredo had barely touched her food, but instead outright yelled at him.

 

Between the eldest son and the window was a dozen traveling bags, so the microphone wasn't necessary to understand what was going on. Alfredo was sending his family somewhere safe and nobody else seemed happy at the thought.

 

After roughly 20 minutes, the dinner was over and everyone headed towards the two cars parked outside. Alfredo stepped into one, his family into the other and drove separate ways.

 

Red Robin had paced the roof back and forth, to keep his legs warmed and ready for the upcoming run. The rooftops were wide enough that he could keep out of sight, for the majority of time, while nearing the edge to check if the car was still within sights. Even though they were among the least law-abiding citizens, the mafia would normally follow the speed-limit. It would attract less attention otherwise, lessen the risk of damaging the car, but most importantly it was to enable passengers looking at the rooftops to see if any capes were following them.

 

Tonight's blistering cold had made most people stay indoors and left the streets mostly empty, but the car with Alfredo kept under the limit, nevertheless.

 

A trusted companion to Red Robin was the grapple hook. It made vertical traversal much easier. If the next roof was higher than the one he was currently on, grappling onto the edge and winching himself faster than he could run, allowed for some air time, by using the winch-momentum and a flick of the wrist, to ensure he didn't torpedo into the wall, instead.

 

Scanning ahead, whenever there was a straight line, Tim would go beyond his limits to try and get ahead of the car, until they arrived at an junction. Although it was mostly seconds, any time he was able to catch his breath, was welcomed.

 

At the upcoming intersection was the main road. Keeping track of where they were and where they were going, Tim estimated that, if the car turned right, they were headed for the docks, and downtown if they turned left. Since most venues, downtown, was under the protection of either crime family, it felt most likely taking place at the docks, since both sides pick a neutral ground over a place controlled by the others.

 

As expected, the car turned right, going south, where only the docks laid ahead. As tempting as it was to skip ahead and wait for the car at the docks, it was still a huge place where a simple car could easily get lost, so Tim kept tailing the car, until the meeting place was in sight.

 

When the docks came into sight, Tim realized how great a decision it was to stick with the car, as the dock's maze-like layout became apparent. Regardless of how many blueprints or old satellite images you could find, it would remain an almost impossible challenge to find something that isn't listed.

 

Around the warehouse section, Tim noted several cars parked outside warehouse D2. This must be the meeting place. In front of the warehouse, was a line of freight containers that seemed well in range for his microphone to listen in on the meeting.

 

Being closer to the meeting would be better, but also raise the risk of getting spotted, so, considering the potential aftermath of this meeting, Tim decided to play it safe and got on top of the containers, while staying relatively out of sight.

 

Tim took some deep breaths, to get his heart-rate back to normal, after the tailing, since the extra hard breathing could potentially disturb the recordings. While doing so, he found his binoculars from a belt-pouch, to see which players would actually meet at the table.

 

"It seems like you haven't gotten any better at picking a spot"

 

Half-way through a deep breath, Tim stopped breathing for a second, while cursing himself for being spotted. As he turned around, his hands simultaneously went for the two-part staff, readying himself for a fight.

 

However, a fight wouldn't break out just yet, as the voice came from Batman, having approached without a sound. He was here for the meeting as well.

 

"At least give a warning, before you give me a heart attack, Batman", Tim said, as he stood up.

 

"I wouldn't have to, if you kept training your senses and checked the surroundings."

 

_Great, a lecture. Just what the situation needed_ , Tim thought to himself. Instead derailing the situation, he turned the discussion towards the meeting.

 

"I take it, you're here for the meeting as well?"

 

"Of course."

 

"There's no need for us both to be here, and I'm sure you got more cases to work on, than I do", Tim said, as this was almost the only thing he'd focused on, since the assassinations started.

 

Batman did and said nothing for a few seconds, but instead stared towards where the meeting would take place.

 

"Show me your microphone", Batman finally said. Tim reached for the two chest-compartments, where the two components for the microphone was. In one compartment was the actual microphone, that was shaped like your average ballpoint pen, with an auxiliary cable attached to the rear, to plug it into Red Robin's wrist-computer, to enable storing whatever gets recorded and for Red Robin to listen along. In the other compartment was a fold-able disc, which helped amplify incoming sounds and isolate it from sideways-coming noise, that would disturb the recording.

 

As Batman got the disc fastened, he also took the cable and plugged it into his own wrist-computer. While being Robin, Tim noticed Batman used the same plug for every cable he used, so he thought it best to use that as well, since it would enable use of each other's equipment with ease.

 

Batman pointed the microphone towards the harbor, where a dinghy was slowly pacing by. Then, he pointed it further out at sea, where a buoy was bouncing back and forth on the waves. Shortly after, Batman unplugged the microphone and handed it back to Red Robin.

 

"When the meeting is over, come to the Batcave with the recordings and we'll go through it and see where it'll lead us", Batman said as he turned around with his grapple hook readily at hand.

 

_You know, you just ask, rather than give orders_ , Red Robin thought as he watched Batman use the grapple hook against a crane in the distance and disappeared into the night.

 

It probably wouldn't have led to any useful dialog, so Tim kept his thoughts to himself, as he prepared for what could be a long night of sitting still and listening.

 

_Thanks, past me, for choosing the cowl over the visor._


	3. Chapter 3

It felt like an eternity, but looking at the time, only twenty minutes had passed, since Red Robin was left by Batman to survey the meeting between Gotham's two biggest crime families, the Bertinelli and Falcone families.

 

In the time passed, everyone at the meeting was still waiting for the last car to show up, hopefully with Carmine Falcone aboard, so the show could begin.

 

Their meeting place was the warehouse marked D2. In front of its port, was five cars. Three on one side, two on the other, both sides with full beams on, purposely blinding the other side.

 

In the center car, still sitting in the warm cabin, was the third generation's head of the Bertinelli family, Franco, waiting for the meeting to commence. The spot opposite him was empty, clearly intended for Carmine to park on.

 

Per Red Robin's clock and the intel he had about the meeting indicated it should have started ten minutes ago, yet Carmine Falcone was nowhere to be seen. Not showing at this meeting would not do his reputation any favors and he would probably be taken as either a warmonger or a coward. More than that, it would also likely spark the war this meeting is supposed to prevent.

 

_Is Falcone wishing for a war?_ Red Robin thought, as his binoculars scanned the area behind the already arrived Falcone cars, as this would be where the final car should come from.

 

The guards from both sides were standing near their families' cars, some were pacing back and forth, others were calming their nerves by chain smoking, everybody had one hand on the inside of their jacket.

 

Finally, a car appeared in the horizon. Red Robin sighed of relief - the war was put on hold for the time being. However, when he noticed two additional cars behind it, with their headlights turned off, he tensed up. This could possibly go very wrong, if Falcone shows up late and extra armed.

 

Franco Bertinelli had gotten out of his car, to greet the arriving Falcone, but the sight of extra guys wasn't well met.

 

"What the hell, Carmine, this wasn't part of the deal!", Franco yelled, the moment Carmine Falcone stepped out of his car. "Is it that difficult to follow your own conditions for this meeting?"

 

The silver-haired Falcone, who was about forty years older than Bertinelli, barely seemed like he even listened.

 

"Are you deaf or something, old geezer?" Bertinelli continued, only louder this time.

 

"Relax kid, don't get your panties in a bunch", Falcone replied, in a polar-opposite and calm tone. "I had some important business to attend to, which took longer than expected."

 

"Yeah, well maybe you should time your 'business' better, or are you perhaps losing your edge? Did old age finally catch up, huh?"

 

"You got something to say, kid?" Falcone said, while walking along his car and stood next to the front wheel of his car, while Bertinelli did the same with his car. "Best if we clear the air before getting down to business, right?"

 

"Damn right, I got something to say! You show up late and with more men than we agreed on. Like what, your family so weak you need two guys to counter each of mine? First, you've been whacking my guys left and right and now you're breaking your own words" Bertinelli said and paused for a bit, while getting his breath back and starting smirking. "Maybe you really have gotten old and this is only way you can do business."

 

"Each of my guys can easily take three of yours, but the truth is I don't trust you, kid. Not like your old man. That's why I brought more men" Falcone replied, while taking the last steps to stand at the front of his car. Bertinelli did the same. "And, I can assure you I haven't touched any of your guys, but unless you leave mine alone, you can be damn sure I'll come for each and every one of yours, do to you what I did to the Maroni family and make you a remnant of the past."

 

"Whatever you say, senile old fart" Bertinelli tried to say, with a slight tremble in his voice. Falcone's threat had clearly gotten under his skin. "But why should I believe you, huh? Your word clearly doesn’t amount to much these days", Bertinelli said after regaining some confidence and feigning the rest.

 

"Because your old man called in the rest of his favors, before stepping down. He wanted me to back off of Bertinelli turf and let you get a foothold in the family business without you alienating your daughter."

 

_That got Franco's attention_ , Red Robin thought, and increasingly worried about how much this would go south. 

 

"How is she, by the way? These days, she must be close to graduating. It's cute that you think she can have a normal life, given the family business." Falcone continued.

 

Bertinelli took a few steps and stood face-to-face with Falcone, grabbed a hold on Falcone's coat, which caused every guard to draw their guns.

 

"Listen here, asshole! You leave Helena the fuck out of this!" Bertinelli screamed at Falcone, while standing slightly on his toes to be on equal height with the current most powerful guy in Gotham.

 

Falcone held out his arms to signal his guys to lower their guns and subsequently grabbed the wrists of a now winching Bertinelli to get his coat free.

 

"You and my old man, you're the same. Always going on about the old days and always clinging to your ancient ways of doing business. Well guess what, it's a new age and there's no space for old farts that can't adapt. So, you leave my family the fuck alone or I'll send you to hell where you and my old man can 'really' get a talk about those good old days." Bertinelli continued. There was a moment of silence afterwards.

 

Bertinelli looked at Falcone, half waiting for a response, half regretting the last bit he just said.

 

 

"Listen, kid. I won't touch your family, unless you give me a reason to. But, like I said, I don't trust you. And, I really don't trust you after tonight. So, I've taken some extra precautions to assure you don't try anything funny. When you come home, Helena will show you a bullet she found on her nightstand." Falcone said to a Bertinelli whose eyes was wide open, and continued, "You remember that, right? Someone gave you something similar back in '93. Take that as my first and final warning."

 

Bertinelli took a few careful steps back, getting him back to his own side of the meeting spot. Falcone, meanwhile, were heading back to his own car. As he was about to step into his car, Falcone looked at Bertinelli with a stern and stiff look.

 

"To think that this is the legacy of Alfredo Bertinelli."

 

Falcone got into his car and drove off, alongside his entourage. A few minutes later, Bertinelli did the same, although his car practically raced off. Probably due to Falcone’s bullet.

 

Red Robin had dissembled the microphone and was ready to go to the Batcave and share what he had heard.

 

_It didn’t seem like either of those two is behind the murders,_ Red Robin thought, _Falcone doesn’t lie about it, when he’s going after someone._

From the harbor to the Batcave, Red Robin would have to go north west from here. A small deviation would take him past his Robincave.

 

_Really gotta find a better name,_ he thought to himself, _but with the bike it would be much quicker than the grapple._

 

Red Robin used his grapple towards the same crane that Batman used earlier, and went off into the sky. _The mobsters have been easy to deal with, after the Maronis fell and Bertinelli got too many health issues to fight Falcone. If there’s a new player inbound, then both Bruce and I need to be ready._

Slightly inner-cursing at himself for still relying on Batman or thinking they’re still a team, as they used to, Red Robin applied the grappler’s boost, to get enough momentum to glide a bit, once he flew past the crane.

 

From up here, the peaceful façade of Gotham City was a sight to behold. No crime ridden streets, no murders, just a lit skyline that hid all the city’s corrupt wrinkles. It served as a reminder of why putting on the Red Robin mantle was worth it and it was currently Tim’s leading reason for why Batman always picked high-altitude gargoyles around the city; To give himself a moment of peace in a life full of chaos.

 

As he glided closer towards the city and got closer to the streets, a car came crashing through a nearby traffic light, but was stopped in its tracks as it t-boned a truck. Two guys stumbled out of the car, clearly ready to flee the scene.

 

_Bruce can wait five more minutes._

 

Going from gliding to grappling always took some effort, but Tim felt he’d gotten the hand of it. This time it went without a hitch as he made his final swing down toward the scene. With one hand on the grappler, he used the other to find a bola in his belt. _Two would’ve been neat, but hindsight and all that._

 

The bola was thrown towards the guy standing next to their crashed car’s hood, while the other, who had his nose in the trunk, should be within reach for Red Robin, by the time he notices his tied-up friend. Using the staff shouldn’t be necessary, when the element of surprise was in Red Robin’s favor.

 

As the first guy was hit and tied by the bola, he fell to the ground and let out a noise of both pain and surprise. To see what the noise what all about, the second guy raised his head too quickly and hit the trunk. After a moment of inner self-deprecation, he saw his friend all tied up.

 

“What the…” he exclaimed and, shortly after, noticed Red Robin’s chest symbol approaching rapidly. The metallic surface of the gold-yellow symbol reflected the light of a nearby streetlamp. Due to how quickly everything happened, the guy didn’t have time to properly set up a defense and instead opted for a quick swing with his right arm.

 

Not much force was behind the swing, so it was easy for Red Robin to avoid it, by dodging to the right. Before the guy could get his arm to follow Red Robin, he had all air punched out of him, with a well-placed fist hitting him right beneath the ribs.

 

While one laid on the ground gasping for air, Red Robin slammed the trunk shut, to keep whatever is in there away from those two, and sprinted towards the other one, who had started to untangle himself from the bola. A swift punch to the jaw put an end to his efforts in getting free, and while Red Robin dragged him by the bola, he tried to formulate a sentence, but was still hazy from the punched jaw.

 

Both guys were placed next to their crashed car, and cuffed to the door pillars and Red Robin went to check the trunk to see what was so important, that they couldn’t flee the crash without it.

 

In the trunk, Red Robin found a steel-plated briefcase with a WayneTech logo on it.

 

_This isn’t something these amateurs pulled off on their own; They’re working for someone else._

“Alright, you two.” Red Robin said to the cuffed henchmen. “Where did you get that case?”

 

“See the logo? Bruce Wayne himself handed it to us” one of them said, as he had regained his breath from before.

 

“You really think we were just gonna spill the beans” the other one pitched in with.

 

_Lovely, it’s gonna be one of those nights, huh?_


	4. Chapter 4

In the few minutes since the two henchmen t-boned another car, a minor crowd had gathered and Red Robin had definitely noticed. He was always much more self-conscious than Batman, who rarely seemed to bat an eye, if he had an audience.

 

Squeezing someone for information wasn’t Red Robin’s forte, either, as he preferred to gather information via other channels, be it a database or a vigilante-friendly officer.

 

“Play nice, you two” Red Robin said, hunched down in front of the two guys who had thrown their wits about, moments earlier. “Do that, and I won’t restrain you for when the police inevitably show up.”

 

“Hah! The police? Our boss is scarier than them.” One of them said as he tried to sit up properly. “Rather be behind bars, than face our boss without that case”

 

_Sounds quite the mouthful, this boss._

 

“Here’s my theory for these events” Red Robin said, as he got up. “Your boss got an insider at WayneTech who have access to this case, or, is close enough to steal it.”

 

The two guys looked at each other and became uneasy in their facial expressions. _That pushed the right button; now for the homerun._

 

“If this super-scary boss of yours can get into WayneTech…” Red Robin said, making sure to keep the deep voice as that made people listen. After a short pause, he tilted his head slightly to one side “… what makes you sure that the bars at Gotham’s finest will keep you safe?”

 

“Well, I-…” One of them said, realizing what an impasse they were at. Clearly, they hadn’t thought their escape through.

 

“Listen, give me something to work with and you can be on your way.” Red Robin said, this time in a much lighter tone. _A one-man good cop/bad cop show._ “It doesn’t have to jail or face your boss; there is a third option, but there’s a small price for it”

 

Neither said anything, just looked down into the ground.

 

“Robert Khan” one of them said, while still looking at the ground. Based on the other one’s expression, who seemingly wanted to tell his partner to stay silent, without saying so, this name was important. “He’s the one who handed us the briefcase.”

 

After that reveal, both looked like a sorry lot, with little going in their favor. _Either they’ll run for the hills, or back to their boss. They don’t look like they have elsewhere to go._

 

While standing with his side to the two guys, Red Robin took a miniature tracker from a belt pocket and hid it between an index and middle finger. He went and grabbed the guy who gave a name, by his collar, to plant the tracker. _Just a precaution._

 

“You’ve been helpful, so I’ll keep my word and let you go. Use this to do something better with your life. Next time, it might be Batman who finds you.”

 

A bit too preachy, but mentioning Batman was, usually, a surprisingly effective scare tactic. Red Robin took the briefcase and with his grapple gun aimed at the roof of a nearby building. It latched on, without issue and Red Robin zipped away.

 

Midair, something felt off. The briefcase, in its clunky shape, was adding air resistance, so it became much more difficult to properly stick a landing. Red Robin pressed a button on the gun to slow down the winch, and rather than the roof, he’d aim for the staircase on the building and take the steps up to the roof, hoping nobody below paid any attention to it.

 

His bike didn’t have the space for it either, so transporting it to Batman would be a hassle. _Best to leave it at my place_ , he thought as he traversed rooftop after rooftop, zeroing in on where he lived. How the briefcase would get from there to wherever Bruce wanted it, was an issue for another day.

 

With his apartment in sight, Red Robin started looking forward to getting rid of the extra luggage. With how the evening had gone so far, he hoped no other interruptions would show up, even as he got within grapple-range of his apartment.

 

Embedded in his suit was a simple RFID chip that would unlock the windows to ease getting in and out of the place, while in uniform. He couldn’t very well walk through the front door in cape and cowl.

 

His place wasn’t anywhere near what neither Bruce nor Batman had, but it was sufficient. A bed, a bathroom with warm water, a fridge, a shelf for completed casefiles, a bleeding-edge supercomputer – just the essentials for a caped crimefighter.

 

The computer was running day and night, parsing information from a police scanner, while logging the type of crime, who respond, and timestamps for it all, with a background operation looking for patterns in them. Any red flags would be flagged and highlighted for further study.

 

Curiosity got the better of him, so Red Robin laid the briefcase on his desk and took a quick peek inside. Maybe it would give him a hand in figuring out who wanted it and why. It proved to be in vain, as all he found inside was another layer of security with biometric scanners. ‘Project N.I.T.R.A.M’ was stamped above the scanners. _It’s something._

 

The briefcase was placed out of sight next to the computer and Red Robin made some final check-ups, to verify the tracker was active. A monitor showed a red blip, named TRCKR_02 moving northeast. Not at a pace of running. _Probably boosted a car_.

 

The tracker was of his own design, but there were still additions to make, as he knew some of Batman’s trackers could detect if they had been removed and placed elsewhere. After checking in on the tracker, he typed in a few commands and went for the windows and exited like he entered.

 

While traffic was light, the roads did not offer an easy route to Wayne Manor, so Red Robin figured it best to beeline it across the roofs. The grapple had already gotten more mileage than the bike, this evening, so might as well continue.

 

The window unlocked, Red Robin climbed through and went to the roof, while keeping an ear for the locking mechanism to engage once he got out of range, which it did – just as expected.

 

As he got to the roof, he had a clear view of Wayne Manor in the horizon. No Bat-signal in the air, so whatever Batman went off to do, after the dock-visit, he’s likely done with, already.

 

Red Robin estimated the trip would take about 10-15 minutes. As he got going, grappling from roof to roof, catching glimpses of children staring out their windows, Red Robin couldn’t help but smile as he imagined the children telling their parents what they saw, only to be told it’s past their bedtime.

 

Even though he could still feel the aftermath from keeping up with a car, earlier the evening, getting across the city went as well as expected, and Red Robin could begin to read the writing on the gate, telling people Wayne Manor was behind the gate.

 

Rather than taking the obvious entrance, Red Robin veered to the left. Hidden behind enough bushes and trees to constitute a small jungle, was a cave entrance, which Red Robin found back when he was just Robin. Bruce probably knew about it as well, but since it never got sealed, Red Robin figured it served as an emergency exit, in case the Batcave was compromised.

 

After getting through the green cluster, Red Robin bent down and crawled through the cave entrance. It was quite steep and narrow. Someone of Batman’s size wouldn’t fit through here easily. Then again, it would only be used, when everything else had gone to hell.

 

Through the cave, he came to a large plateau, that sat right next to the stairs leading up to Bruce Wayne’s house. From here Red Robin could see almost the entire Batcave. To the right, was a sparring pad with various training equipment, next to it was a series of displays with the many uniforms of Batman and those that trained under him.

 

Most of the displays stood in an arc, but one stood out from the ‘crowd’. While the others were in a cylindrical display, one was in a cube – the glass was thicker as well. _That’s Jason’s uniform,_ Red Robin realized as he identified the suits. Two of Batman’s, an empty display, Grayson’s first uniform, and Tim’s old uniform. The empty display was likely where Batman’s third uniform was usually placed.

 

Right now, however, it was being used, by the figure sitting behind an array of oversized monitors and similarly sized keyboards. Standing next to him, was Batman’s most trusted ally; his butler, Alfred. The cowl was down, meaning Batman was going to be here for a while.

 

Or at least, that was Red Robin’s thought, but soon, Batman got up, put on the cowl and went the left, where Red Robin couldn’t see, but by elimination it was where all the Bat-vehicles were placed. Some minutes passed, but no engine start-up sound came and Alfred hadn’t moved either.

 

“Quite the view, isn’t it?”

 

_God dammit._


	5. Chapter 5

Batman hadn’t gone out for the night, he knew about the blocked view and had snuck up on Red Robin.

 

“For a moment, I actually thought I got it”

 

They both went down and joined Alfred, who stood with a tray of two cups of tea, still steaming.

 

“Alfred, it’s good to see you again” Red Robin said, as both he and Batman took off their cowls.

 

“Master Timothy, welcome back.” Alfred said, standing ready with a cup for Tim. “I trust it was not all too difficult finding our abode, when it has been so long since you visited.”

 

_It’s been two months._

 

Alfred’s dry British humor coupled with his ability to keep a straight face was among what Tim had missed the most from his Robin days.

 

Bruce sat down in his chair, took a cup of tea and looked to Tim

 

“What did you find out, at the dock?”

 

Tim handed him a drive with the recording of the meeting.

 

“Neither says they’re doing this. I think a third player joined in.”

 

Bruce took a sip of his tea, without saying anything, as if waiting for Tim to continue, which he did.

 

“Franco may not be like his father, but he’s not stupid. Going for Falcone this quick after being put on the throne would be suicide. Nobody in the Bertinelli family trusts him; Nobody who’d take a bullet for him.”

 

“And Falcone?”

 

“He never kills without warning. Doesn’t outright deny it, if he ordered it. If he made a deal with Franco’s father, he’s honoring it.”

 

“Apt descriptions. By that, your theory of someone else seems most likely.” Bruce said, putting the now empty cup down, stood up and put on his cowl. “Pursue that lead, for now. You have the cave’s resources at your disposal.”

 

“Got other business for the evening”

 

“Trouble at WayneTech” Batman said, as he walked towards his Batmobile.

 

“Does it involve Robert Khan, by chance?” Tim said, to which Batman stopped in his tracks, turned around and walked towards Tim. He stopped a hand’s length from Tim, where the physical difference became all but apparent. Batman said nothing for what felt like an eternity; He just scowled at Tim. Or maybe that was just because of the cowl’s build.

 

“The briefcase is at your apartment?” Batman asked, finally breaking the silence.

 

“Between the computer and bookshelf.” Tim responded and dislodged one of the belt-compartments. The one with an RFID chip for the window entrance. “Northern most window in the living room.”

 

Batman grabbed the compartment and returned to his task of getting into the Batmobile. As he took off, he left yet another layer of burned rubber on the ground.

 

Tim sat himself in the chair and took the final sip of his tea and gave the cup to Alfred.

 

“Yours is still the best, Alfred”

 

“Thank you, Master Timothy. I take it you’re in it for the long night?”

 

“Don’t know. Hope not” Tim said as he familiarized himself with the computer.

 

“Then I won’t disturb further.”

 

“Nonsense, your humor might be disturbing sometimes, but your presence is not” Tim chuckled. “But, speaking of disturbance, where’s Damian? By now, he should’ve told me of the 26 ways he could’ve killed me, because I let my guard down”

 

“He has been confined to his chambers, and tasked with solving the Heinzelburg case”

 

That case was a tool Bruce used to train the Robins and hone their investigative skills. It was one Batman’s first and took him months to solve. Now, all the evidence will be presented and the trainee is to figure it out. Once that’s done, they could join patrol nights and were given their own Robin uniform. Out of the three first Robins, Tim held the record and even found clues to a secondary element, that Bruce had missed.

 

Tim didn’t say anything, just looked at Alfred, trying to figure out why Damian was under house arrest.

 

“Master Damian decided that putting the late Master Jason’s uniform on display was shameful and that it was more honorable if it was worn by the one who brought revenge to their fallen comrade. League tradition, apparently.” Alfred said.

 

_That explains the thick glass._

 

“So, he went for Joker?”

 

“Attempted. His plan was foiled by Master Bruce, who caught him, outside the Wayne compound.”

 

“Still, him being grounded sounds like Damian got off easy.”

 

“Perhaps, but Master Bruce spent the rest of the evening training. Several punching bags had to be stitched, afterwards.” Alfred said, as he looked to the Batcave’s training area.

 

As Tim and Alfred caught up with past events, the main monitor got a pop-up message. From Red Robin.

 

‘Got the case. Quite the system’

_Still no speed limit for the Batmobile, I see._

 

Rather than directly responding, Tim opened a terminal and typed in a few commands. Before leaving his own apartment, he had opened a few ports in his computer’s system, intending the Batcomputer to be at the other end.  After a few moments, another message from Red Robin’s computer

 

‘Connected. Shared computing power?’

 

 ‘Yes’

 

Alfred, now paying attention to the messages, leaned forth and said “Oh my, beginning to talk to yourself?” He leaned back and stood rank as ever and sighed, “Such is the life of the cowl.” He placed the empty cups of tea on his tray and walked upstairs.

 

Unsure how to respond to that, Tim focused on the computer. He wanted to try out the new connection and looked through the directories. He found the data for his tracker and as if he was using his computer, it popped up in a new window with the blip now static, in an upstate neighborhood. The two goons from earlier had probably crawled back to their boss, who was quite well off, by the looks of it.

 

With that out of the way, it was back to the business at hand. The third player.

 

_It’s obviously someone with experience. They know how to keep low and still poke the others._

 

Tim sat back and let every theory run through his head, not realizing he was staring blankly at the monitors. It had to someone who had been in the game before, maybe one who’d run with another family before?

 

Of the families, the most recent that succumbed to a gang war, was the Maroni crime family. Tim brought up several files on the computer alongside just as many articles about the Maronis. The brass of that family was all taken out a few years ago, in an attack by Two-Face, at the Iceberg Lounge. However, Batman had logs that showed it was ordered by Carmine Falcone. Phone-calls and wiretaps revealed that Sal Maroni had backed out of an important deal with Falcone and Falcone had warned him of retaliation.

 

_Any Maroni survivor would have a major bone to pick with Falcone after that._

 

The Lounge’s owner, Oswald “The Penguin” Cobblepot, liked to throw these parties, where various crooks and mobsters showed up and played nice. To show the world they were actually nice people. At one of these parties, Two-Face had barged in and shot the place, Rambo-style, and finished up by torching everything. Few bodies could be identified, and only by any paraphernalia like rings or golden teeth. It was shortly thereafter that Alfredo Bertinelli stepped down. _Probably figured he was_ _getting too old for this shit._

Tim pulled out the Maroni files, to see the status of its high ranked members. As expected, most were confirmed deceased. The only notable affiliates not deceased, was Maroni’s daughter, Lisa, and an outsider named Roman Sionis. Feared by others for his interrogation talents, revered for his lie-detecting talents, noted for his effective use of masks to scare the shit out of people – friend or foe.

 

Lisa wasn’t a suspect here. Her father had tried to let her keep a relatively normal life. She wouldn’t have the needed skills or experience to pull this off. _Sionis, on the other hand._

 

Tim leaned back and pondered for a moment. Sionis was still an outsider, so he wouldn’t have a strong connection with Maroni. Although, he was quite high-ranking, so some connection must’ve been present. Reports from the Lounge incident said they found fragments of a skull-looking mask, but not the whole thing nor the person wearing it. So, the connection was strong enough for them to bring him along. _He could walk away from it, yet he might be back._

 

Tim looked to the monitor with his tracker and did a double take. It didn’t register the first time he noticed it wasn’t moving. _It’s at Maroni’s old mansion!_

The two guys from earlier said their boss was super scary – someone known for their interrogation skills would definitely be scary. Even though he was an outsider, if he was brought to the Lounge party, he must’ve been someone for Maroni. Meaning he saw what the upper branch were doing and how they were doing it.

 

Knowing what was in that briefcase would’ve been a great help to figure out why Sionis would want it and why now. The timing with the sit-down of Falcone and Bertinelli couldn’t be a coincidence. Someone has it out for the two crime families, they know what they’re doing. One of the families almost wiped out another family, but not completely, who is now less than a shadow of its former self. And Roman Sionis fit the bill for both cases.

 

Tim looked at the monitor where he and Batman had confirmed connection between their computers and saw the line was down. Bruce never did let lines open for long. Tim opened a new line, this time to the Batmobile’s system, and left a message saying there’s a strong connection between their cases.

 

All that was left now was to go to Maroni’s old mansion and find out if he was right. If he was, two birds with one stone. If not, then he would at least contribute to Batman’s case and find out why the mansion was relevant to the stolen project briefcase and who wanted it.

 

Tim stood up, put on his cowl and wondered how he’d get to the old Maroni mansion.

 

_When Bruce said ‘all the cave’s resources’, did that include the Batwing?_


	6. Chapter 6

Despite being located in a upper class neighborhood, time had not been kind to the mansion once inhabited by the Maroni crime family. Vines had grown through several bricks on the walls and the uncut grass had cultivated a minor ecosystem of various bugs and insects.

 

Due to the house’s history, very few buyers were keen on even looking at the house, when searching for a place to settle. This came as a benefit to the driver who just pulled up to the car and parked in the driveway. He had been utilizing the mansion for his own purposes. Its less-than-ideal façade made for an excellent way to hide from prying eyes.

 

As he stepped out of his black sedan, he was greeted by a woman with a tablet under her left arm.

 

“Boss, the guy in the basement is awake and screaming his lungs out.” She said, as they walked in tandem back to the house.

 

“Excellent news, Lisa. Means he’s ready to talk.” He said in response.

 

The interior of the mansion was much better kept than its exterior. The marble flooring and lower walls looked as if they had been cleaned within the last few days. In the hallway were two curved stairways on each side of the hall, with carpets that didn’t seem to have any footprints on them.

 

“Sir, are you sure this guy knows where Two-Face is?” Lisa asked, as they approached the basement door and the screams of their involuntary basement-inhabitant became louder.

 

“I have it on good authority that this guy has connections with Two-Face, so at the very least, he should be able to give us a guiding point…” The boss said, while taking off his bespoke white pinstriped jacket, while keeping the similarly styled vest and black shirt on, along the shoulder holsters for each of his two guns.

 

“… But, if he can’t do that little, then at the very least, I can make an example out of him. Two-Face is smart, he knows who is and isn’t a member of his gang. A public message should tell him that Black Mask is after him. And, that no place on Earth is safe.”

 

Before entering the basement, Black Mask cleaned his eponymous attire with a napkin supplied by Lisa, who had been walking beside him, since entering the mansion.

 

As soon as the door was opened, the screams and curses stopped. In the middle of the basement sat the source of the racket, tied to a wooden chair, directly under the room’s only source of light, which had intentionally been a bulb that created enough heat to make anyone, under it, sweat. The air-condition had been turned off to add to the heating effect. Thus, the basement had basically become a sauna and the sole user was fully clothed, in a cheap-looking suit, black on the left side and white on the right. No doubt about his Two-Face connection.

 

“Welcome back to the world of the conscious, Mr. Conway.” Black Mask said as he walked towards the workbench located behind the chair-bound guy. “Or do you prefer Edward?” He said, after turning to Conway, having picked up a nail and hammer from the bench and found a pull-up chair and sat down in front of Conway.

 

“Go fuck yourself!” Conway said in a firm tone and tried to spit on Black Mask, although he missed.

 

“I see, Edward is for close friends only.” Black Mask quipped, “Well, don’t worry, you and I are gonna get real close. Now tell me” He said and continued after a short pause “Where can I find Two-Face?”

 

“I ain’t telling you shit” Conway said and spat after Black Mask, although he missed.

 

“Wrong answer.” Black Mask responded in an octave below normal, placed the nail on Conway’s left thigh and readied the hammer. “One last chance.”

 

“Give it your best shot.”

 

“Don’t mind if I do.” Black Mask said, raised the hammer above his head and hit the nail with full force, resulting in Conway screaming and squirming back and forth on the chair.

 

While Conway was quieting down, Black Mask had found another nail on the workbench and held it on the other thigh and prepared the hammer once more. “Come on, work with me here; it’s for your own good.”

 

Conway, now sweating more than before, breathed heavily and tried to gather his thoughts.

 

“What does it matter? You’ll just kill me anyway.”

 

“Well, you’re right about that, but whether it happens without pain and you noticing, or sometime next week, is entirely up to you.”

 

Conway did his best to remain unfazed, but, the barely visible eyes in his captor’s mask staring at him made it challenging to do so. He took a deep breath and looked to the ground to further calm himself.

 

“Look, Two-Face doesn’t tell us all what he’s up to. Only those in his inner circle, and I don’t even know who’s in that. This is what he does, he gives whatever info to those who needs it here and now, but the bigger picture, his grand scheme, is not something he just blathers out. To prevent him being brought down because an idiot like me gets caught.” Conway said and began to show a smile of relief. “Hell, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give you a name other than Two-Face. I don’t know who else is important in the gang.”

 

“That’s a shame” Black Mask said and got up from his chair, took the gun from under his left shoulder and pointed it towards Conway. “But, your information has been valuable. This changes a few things. In return, I give you this” he finished and pulled the trigger. Because Conway sat up straight, the impact sent his now lifeless body backwards and hit the floor.

 

Black Mask put the gun back in its holster and went upstairs, where Lisa was waiting, with his jacket.

 

“Did he tell you anything useful?” she asked, as she handed him the jacket and they both walked up on the first floor towards Sal Maroni’s old office, now Black Mask’s current office.

 

“Maybe. I think. If what he said was true, then we’ve chosen the wrong angle for this.” Black Mask responded.

 

“And if it’s not?”

 

“Then we haven’t moved an inch”

 

In the office, which were big enough for a dozen people to be there, without it being crowded, Black Mask sat behind the big mahogany desk and pondered for a moment about what to do. He was then interrupted by a knock on the door, and a guard walked in.

 

“Sir, Chad and Keith have returned”

 

“Excellent, send them in.” Black Mask said in a light tone as the interruption was good news for once, he hoped.

 

A few minutes later, Chad and Keith, in their bruised shapes, stumbled through the door, walked towards the desk and did their best to not look Black Mask in the eyes.

 

“Empty handed?” Black Mask said, while leaning forward in his seat. “There better a FUCKING great explanation for this!” he screamed at the two guys. “WHERE. IS. IT?! Where’s the briefcase?!”

 

Keith still looked at the floor, but Chad was puffing his chest out and, in an attempt to look up, stared out the windows behind Black Mask. Yet Keith was the first to speak.

 

“Capes” He said, but too quiet for even Chad to hear it.

 

“SPEAK UP! I asked you a damn question!” Black Mask continued to scream.

 

“One of the capes, a new guy, got to us.” Chad said, relieved that he didn’t have to speak first. “He took the case.”

 

“He…” Black Mask said and exhaled for about a good minute, leaned back and took a few deep breaths. “You had ONE job! Go to the place you were told, get the briefcase and then drive back here. One Job! And what did I say about you getting back here?”

 

“To drive by the law” Keith said in a quiet voice, while scratching one arm with the other and looking around the floor. This time it wasn’t too quiet for Black Mask to hear it.

 

“And did you?”

 

“Yeah, of course we did” Chad chimed in with confidence in his voice.

 

“Then why did you attract one of the capes?” Black Mask said, to which Chad had no response.

 

“We ran a red light.” Keith said, “and t-boned another car.”

Chad was now making faces for Keith to keep quiet.

 

“Interesting. Chad, you were the driver, were you not?”

 

“Yes” Chad said, now with much less confidence in his voice.

 

After an eerily long silence Black Mask took, from his under his right shoulder, a gun and placed it on the edge of his desk, in front of Chad and Keith.

 

“One of you have to pay for screwing up your job. Which one is up to you.”

 

Keith and Chad looked at the gun, looked at each other and both franticly tried to get a hold of the gun. They pushed and shoved and elbowed each other, until finally Keith had the gun in his hand. Chad took a few steps back.

 

“Come on Keith, don’t do this” Chad said, with tears in his eyes, “I’m your brother, we always stick together, right?”

 

Chad went from teary-eyed to shocked, as he saw Keith put the gun under his own chin.

 

“I know, but I can’t kill you, not my own brother.” Keith forced out, almost choking on the words.

 

“Keith, give me the gun, I fucked up, you don’t have to pay for it.” Chad said and put his hand forth for the gun.

 

After a few moments, Keith removed the gun from under his chin and gave it to Chad, who proceeded to put it to his own temple. The gun rattled from Chad’s shaking hands, but he never pulled the trigger. Instead, he pointed it at Keith, who put his arms up. Shortly after, Chad swung around and pointed the gun towards Black Mask, who was still sitting in his chair, not even slightly reacting to the sight of the gun barrel.

 

 _Click_. That was all the sound from the gun that came out as Chad pulled the trigger. No bang, no bullet, just the hammer uncocking itself against no primer. _Click click click_ , Chad franticly pulled the trigger several times.

 

“I guess Keith is the loyal one” Black Mask said and got up from his chair as he grabbed his other gun, pointed it at Chad and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger. He went and got his other gun back from Chad, and stood in front of Keith, who was staring blankly at his brother’s dead body.

 

“He lied about what happened, he tried to kill his own brother and he tried to kill his boss. But, I get it, he’s still your brother. Take a moment, if you need it, but don’t take too long. Clean this mess and then bury the body, hell you can give him a tombstone for all I care. Once you’re done, go the basement and clean that up as well.”

 

“Y-Yes sir.”

 

Black Mask went back to his chair, leaned back and took several deep breaths.

 

He swung the chair around and looked out the window, seeing the Gotham City skyline and the Bat-symbol on the clouds. One day, he thought, this city would belong to him.

 

_And it will be without the Bat!_


	7. Chapter 7

Above the city, the Batwing silently roared through the sky. Red Robin had put it on autopilot, while he looked at blueprints of the building he was about to enter. Next to the blueprints, he had documents of what additions had been made to the building. Among the changes was an escape tunnel that lead into what Red Robin assumed was the office, on the first floor.

 

_It's where the boss would be, most of the time._

 

The immediate plan was to sneak in, via the escape tunnel, since Red Robin would then avoid any henchmen between him and Sionis. A sleeping gas grenade should do the trick of incapacitating the shot-caller and allow Red Robin to exfiltrate him to the Batwing without much fuss.

 

Batman always had spares of most equipment in his vehicles, among which was a breathing apparatus, that Red Robin figured would be useful, since knocking himself out with the sleeping gas wasn’t the smartest move.

 

When he came near the Maroni Mansion, he engaged the Batwing’s survey mode, where it circled a target and took a series of infrared photos. Based on the heatmaps, Red Robin counted six people in total, one in the office room, two standing guard outside.

 

The Batwing hovered above a corner of the mansion, and Red Robin got wired down to the ground. The wire went back up, and the Batwing went back into survey mode and circled the mansion, until instructed otherwise.

 

Red Robin found the hatch to the escape tunnel behind a tree near the mansion. When he dropped down, he needed to crawl to get further, but it was more spacious than the Batcave’s escape tunnel. Not long after crawling he got to an area where he could stand, but the light was sparse, so it was difficult to properly see the surroundings. With a flashlight, he noted saw how big this room was. That had to be the basement. That wasn’t part of the schematics.  A line on the floor showed that a wall had once been here, separating the escape tunnel and basement, but now they were one.

 

Within the escape tunnel’s original space, there was a ladder leading up to the first floor, simply passing the ground level of the house.

 

At the top of the ladder, a light came through at the floor. _The door to the office,_ Red Robin thought. But since it was this big, and probably disguised as a bookshelf on the other side, it would be difficult to open it and deploy the grenade as planned, without giving himself away. _Change of plans!_

 

From a pocket in his belt, Red Robin got a flashlight out and looked at where he was, looking for another way in. Despite how small and seemingly unused this passage was, the air wasn’t stuffed, so some ventilation was bound to be here.

 

Looking above him, he saw the vent and it was big enough for a person to crawl through, but reaching it would be the first challenge. Putting his back against the opposite wall and his feet on the wall in front of him, Red Robin started walking up the wall, until he could reach the vent and remove the grill. The grill was removed with a small screwdriver, which revealed the ventilation shaft as made of metal. That was going to create a ruckus, if Red Robin crawled through that.

 

With the grill in hand, he jumped down, went down the ladder and looked around the basement for something to aid him. _Circuit breakers, where are you?_

They were on a pillar in the middle of the basement. Opening the cover to the breakers, he knew what to do, but if he simply turned them off now, he wouldn’t have enough time to get up the ladders, before somebody came down here.

 

He was never fond of using it, but explosive clay was the only option, right now. Small clumps put on a few of the breakers. If all of them went, the people above would be more alarmed. The previous owner had been so kind to label the breakers, and Red Robin left the ones for the kitchen and living room without clay.

 

With clumps of this size, none of them should be more potent than a firecracker, which would suffice for this. Primers were put in each of them and connected to a wireless receiver. Red Robin closed the cover and went back up the ladder. He climbed into the ventilation shaft and started to slowly crawl across, being _very_ aware of his movement speed.

 

Further up ahead, he came to another grill with a view into the office. Looking to the side, he confirmed that the escape door was indeed disguised as a bookshelf.

 

Somebody was sitting in the chair looking out the big windows behind him. Below Red Robin, the door opened and a woman and a man walked in.

 

“Sir, here’s who you requested.” The woman said as her boss in the chair turned around, revealing a full-face mask, resembling a skull. _Roman_ _Sionis_.

 

“Thank you, Lisa.” He said. _Lisa? Lisa Maroni?! Why’s she in this?_

 

“Now, do you understand you mission?” Sionis continued, to which the man in the room nodded.

 

“Find a lone Bertinelli and bring him to along to a Falcone shootout.” The man said.

 

“Exactly. And if he doesn’t play nice, just shoot him and drag him there.” Sionis said, stood up and walked over to the man. “What you _really_ need to accomplish is making sure the Falcones see the Bertinelli body.”

 

“Yes sir!” The man said and walked out the room.

 

Red Robin used his wrist computer to send a message to Batman. Whoever that guy was, and wherever he was going, he needed to be stopped, but Red Robin wasn’t equipped for taking down what was probably going to be moving in a car.

 

After a short moment, and no one else had entered the room, Red Robin put his plan into motion by getting his remote out. Took a deep breath and pressed the button, giving off a minor _click_ sound. Because the charges were so small, he couldn’t hear them going off, even though he was, basically, in the same room, by extension.

 

Red Robin heard murmurs below from the others in the house trying to figure out what happened. Sionis, however, was staring directly at the grill where Red Robin was.

 

A guy burst into the room. “Sir, are you alright?”

 

“Yeah yeah, what’s the fuzz?”

 

“The lights went out on the entire floor below.”

 

“Then go turn it on again. And don’t bother me with such trivial stuff again!”

 

“Y-Yes sir!” The man said and left the room again.

 

When the guy’s loud steps couldn’t be heard anymore, Sionis looked back up to the grill.

 

“You can come out now. Or do I have to shoot the wall around you?”

 

_This didn’t exactly go as planned._

 

Red Robin removed the grill and placed it on the top of a bookshelf to his right and jumped down.

 

“Roman Sionis.”

 

“The one and only. Although, it’s Black Mask, now.”

 

“Started as the outsider for Maroni, as their interrogator, and now you sit in the big chair.”

 

“That I do.”

 

Despite Black Mask’s order to the other guy, Red Robin went and locked the door, to prevent anyone getting in here, and making it more difficult than it needed to be.

 

“You must be the new guy, that messed up my plan earlier. I’m a briefcase short, you know.” Black Mask said. “And I take it, you’re also the one who turned off the lights here?”

 

_So, the cases were connected after all._

 

Red Robin briefly caught a glimpse of a gun holster under Black Mask’s right arm. On the back of his belt, he found two small discs, that acted as his Batarangs.

 

“Why’d you send him away, if you knew I was up there?”

 

“Like I said, I’m a briefcase short.” Black Mask said and pulled a gun from under his right arm. “And I need to take it out on someone.” Red Robin threw one of the discs at the gun, hit it and knocked it out of Black Mask’s hand.

 

“So, you might be new, but this isn’t your first rodeo. Who are you?”

 

“It’s Red Robin.”

 

“ _Red_ Robin?” Black Mask said and pondered for a moment. He walked back and forth for a moment. “That explains why Batman have been solo for some time now. You left. Shouldn’t there be new one, then?”

 

Red Robin didn’t say anything, trying not to reveal too much, even though it sounded like Black Mask knew plenty, already.

 

“Oh, well. No matter.” Black Mask said. “No need to worry about future Robins, when I got one, right here.”

 

Black Mask was both taller and bulkier than Red Robin, who figured he needed to use his staff this time. When Black Mask went for a gun under his left arm, Red Robin threw his other disc and hit the gun, once again. While Black Mask recoiled, Red Robin went for each piece in the sides of his boots. The staff was assembled in one swift motion.

 

“So, you disrupt my plans, take what I’ve worked hard to get.” Black Mask said. “And, now you sneak around my house and play games.” He took his jacket off, and threw it on his desk.

 

“Very well, Double-R-Seven,” He said, while getting into a fighting stance. “let’s dance!”


	8. Chapter 8

Between the two, Black Mask had the upper hand. His moves weren’t faster, but they packed a heavier punch than any of those Red Robin managed to land.

 

Using the staff had been both a bane and a boon. If a swing wasn’t fast enough, Black Mask would grab the staff with a single hand.

 

Instead of going for the torso, Red Robin made a quick jab at Mask’s shin, before using the other end to go after the head. He didn’t grunt too much at the impact, and quickly returned with an elbow. Batman’s attacks were swifter, so – due to rigorous training – Red Robin had plenty of time to see the elbow coming, but barely managed to get his head clear.

 

His retreat came at the cost of losing his grip on the staff, as he wouldn’t have been able to get away, otherwise. Now, his most trusted piece of equipment was in the hand of his foe.

 

Holding it vertically in front of his chest, Black Mask slammed the staff into his knee. He didn’t break it, but pieces of the locking mechanism got bent, and the staff had a notable curve to it. Instead of using it himself, Black Mask threw the staff after Red Robin, who ducked it with ease.

 

However, doing so left him open to the charging Black Mask, who grabbed Red Robin by the throat and continued running through the office and slammed him into the bookshelf at the back of the room. Had it not been for the extra padding covering the spine, Red Robin would’ve been paralysed from hitting the edge of a shelf between two vertebras. _Can’t breathe_ , Red Robin thought as the grip around his neck remained. No amount of hitting the elbow joint from either side did anything.

 

“What the problem, Double-R-Seven, don’t you have any fancy gadget that can deal with this?” Black Mask mused at the sight.

 

Due to the tight grip around his throat, Red Robin couldn’t answer.

 

Having given up on getting his enemy to let go, Red Robin held out both arms, trying to find something – anything – that he could hurl at Black Mask. If he still had enough strength for that; His vision was starting to blur from the lack of air.

 

He felt something round and smooth. Fumbling further revealed a nose, eye sockets. _A bust_ , Red Robin thought. Getting a proper grip on it, he swung it at Black Mask.

 

It was blocked easily, as the swing came at Black Mask’s free arm, not the one blocking Red Robin’s breath. The block eased up, however, and Red Robin dropped the bust, hitting Black Mask’s foot, then put both arms around the gripping arm, and locked his fingers together. With whatever strength he had left, Red Robin thrusted his knee upwards and hit the elbow joint. _Crack!_

 

The scream from Black Mask was almost as loud as the broken joint.

 

While Black Mask stumbled backwards clenching his broken arm, Red Robin hunched over, coughing, and breathed heavily. His skin-tight cowl wasn’t helping it.

 

Red Robin inhaled deeply, to the point of his uniform made sounds from the stretching, and picked up the bust – it depicted Sal Maroni. Before charging the still-grunting Black Mask, Red Robin threw the bust at his enemy – who didn’t manage to duck in time.

 

Black Mask fell to the ground, without making a sound, and Red Robin’s charge slowed as the thought of murder ran across his mind. Two fingers on his neck, sensors in the gloves sent info to the display in front of his eyes. Black Mask still had a pulse.

 

Sirens approached. Red Robin looked out the window and saw the flashing lights. _I didn’t –_

 

The office’s door was kicked off its hinges. By Batman.

 

_That would explain the lack of henchman_ , Red Robin thought as he smiled in relief and sat down to properly catch his breath.

 

With a cuffed Black Mask, who was conscious within minutes, the two vigilantes walked through the mansion.

 

“We’ll get you for this,” a henchman said to them, as they passed him.

 

His threat was rather hollow, while he was tied to a radiator.

 

Outside, Commissioner Gordon stood with two transport vans, lights still going. Heavily armoured officers entered the mansion to pick up the henchmen.

 

“Good work,” Gordon said to Batman. His breath smelled of tobacco, even though he was supposed to quit, ages ago. An officer took custody of Black Mask and shoved him into one of the vans.

 

“This one wasn’t me,” Batman said and looked at Red Robin.

 

Gordon, with a raised eyebrow, extended a hand to Red Robin, who returned it.

 

“Helluva way to start,” Gordon said, looking at Black Mask, “but I guess you’ve been trained by the best, so that should be a given.”

 

Red Robin simply nodded, as he was lost for words.

 

After the henchmen were loaded into the vans, Red Robin and Batman walked towards the road, where the Batmobile was parked. The Batwing was nowhere to be seen, above. _Bruce must’ve recalled it._

 

“Can I get a lift?” Red Robin asked. He’d used the Batwing to get here, but it was a one-way ticket, apparently.

 

“Hop in.”

 

The Batmobile roared off, breaking the speed limit within seconds.

 

“I hope you know each case won’t be as easy as this one,” Batman said, as they were driving towards Gotham – towards Tim’s apartment.

 

“I know, I remember most of the cases we worked on, back in the day,” Tim said, after taking off the cowl. “There were some tough ones, in there.”

 

“And more to come.” Batman said. “For those, however, you do need to ask, before taking the Batwing.”

 

“If memory serves, you said I had every resource, from the cave, available.”

 

Silence.


End file.
